Ill-fated Meeting
by Bugsy67
Summary: At the world conference, America becomes sick, but tries to hide it. That works... not. USUK fluffiness at some point, but when is unknown. First fanfic, so any reveiws are great. WARNING: FEELS DESTROYED IN LATER CHAPTER Will be updated sporadically, but at least one chapter a week.
1. Chapter 1

America flopped down on the queen sized bed in his hotel room after a long first day of the world conference. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, but a pounding headache made that impossible. He laid unmoving for five minutes before pushing himself up with a groan and changing into his pajamas, a tight red and blue tie-dyed shirt and light gray sweatpants, before getting a glass of water to take an aspirin. He swallowed the small pill and then collapsed back onto the bed, not even taking his glasses off before he fell into a light, restless sleep

America woke feeling worse then the night before. His headache had gotten worse, and he was constantly coughing, causing him a sore throat. He groaned loudly as he rolled over to look at the clock. 7:32. He groaned a second time as he pushed himself up. He slowly stumbled into the bathroom holding his head to get ready for another day at the world conference. He cringed almost involuntarily as he though of all the noise, and even just the thought made the pounding in his head seem all the more prominent. The steamy water was shut off as America stepped out and dried himself. He was exhausted. It wasn't until he was pulling on his bomber jacket the he realized that he had to speak at the conference today. He let out a groan and sat back down on the bed, head in hands. How was he going to make it through today?

England walked into the conference room, surprised that a certain American hadn't jumped out screaming "IGGY" and hugged him. He looked around. "_Hmm... America normally is here before me_," he thought to himself. He took his seat and started swirling the sugar around in his tea. The room seemed oddly quiet, as it was only Russia, China, and himself in the room so far. That did not last long, and Germany and Italy walked in the room a few minutes later, arguing noisily.

"Germany! I want pastaa!" Italy whined to the blonde next to him.

Germany did not even look at the small man next to him. He sighed. "Ja, Italy. You have made that clear. But the hotel does not serve spaghetti at breakfast."

"But I always have pasta for breakfast!" The Italian continued to wail.

England looked up as Germany closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Ja Italy. I know that, too. We can get pasta for lunch."

England turned back to his tea and tuned them out, lost in deep thought. He jumped when the door opened, but was relieved when he realized it was only America. But the boy was uncharacteristically quiet, the Brit noticed. He watched as the American silently slid into his seat next to England as all the other countries filed in after him.

As the meeting started, England turned to face the front where Germany was speaking, putting America directly into his line of sight. The younger country did not seem to be paying attention. England was about to comment loudly about the rudeness of America when he noticed how exhausted the boy looked. He had dark bags under his bloodshot eyes, and he kept quietly clearing his throat. Again, England was about to say something when he was, yet again, interrupted.

"America!" Germany barked. "Get your notes out, its time for your presentation." England watched as America grabbed the stack of papers in front of him and heard the American attempt to stifle a groan as he pushed himself out of his seat. The boy slowly made his way to the front of the room to give his presentation.

**A/N**

**You know, a lot of people will whine in there author's notes saying "oh, this is my first fanfic, please be nice," and other crap like that. You know what? I don't care. I want any review, and guess what? While nice reviews make you feel really good, sometimes critisism is more helpful. So, any reviews are helpful.**

**Kisses!**

**Ellie**


	2. Chapter 2

America walked to the front of the room, trying to hold himself as normally as possible. He got up to the podium and allowed himself a few coughs. He immediately regretted it and started mentally slapping himself at the gross choking noises that came out of him. He took a deep breath and looked up, met be a raised eyebrow from Britan.

"America, is everything all right?" He asked

America felt all eyes in the room on him. He forced out a laugh. "Yeah, The hero is fine! Just choked on my spit." He could tell that England didn't believe him, but was grateful the Brit didn't press the matter farther.

America leaned against the podium and began to read his pre-written speech on the benefits of helping third world countries. When he was done, he again walked back to his seat, his head feeling worse than it had that morning. He resisted the urge to collapse in his chair, instead slowly sitting down as Germany started to attempt to mediate on a discussion He couldn't focus on the debate, though, not even remembering giving the speech. He paced his elbow on the table and placed his cheek in his hand. He sat in this position attempting to watch the "discussion" before him, but only succeeding in dozing of for a few moments before Germany, yet again, started yelling that it was time for another country to present. It went on like this, America dozing, only waking up when The blonde German started yelling.

By the time the meeting ended, America, who woke up as every one started to mingle and move about, was more than grateful to be able to get out of the room. He walked out of the room and started to walk down the hall towards his room. He faintly heard some one say "Where did America run off to?" when his stomach flipped. He darted to his room, key in hand. He opened the door and was met with another wave of nausea. He slapped a hand to his mouth and quickly made his way to the bathroom before falling to his knees, gripping the sides of the toilet. He dry heaved painfully a few times, and then his stomach released all of its contents. When he was finished, America leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, shivering and breathing heavily. He sat there for a few moments before the whole process was repeated again.

After an hour in the bathroom, America stood up and shaky legs and stumbled to his bed, into which he collapsed gratefully, falling asleep almost immediately, yet again not taking his glasses off.

When he woke up the next day, he could barely move. He felt weak and tired, and only to things motivated to get out of bed. His need to keep up his image as a hero, and the strong urge to vomit. He crawled to the bathroom on all fours, slowing down as he started painfully dry heaving. He made it to the toilet and sat there for what felt like a long time before he coughed out some bile. He laid down on the floor, the cool tile soothing against his feverish skin. _This is going to be a long day_, he thought as he pushed himself up and slowly walked out to get ready.

**Hey Guys! Here's chapter two! And I can't believe it but I have a 8 followers already!**

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**I've also got chapter three almost done but it is extremely short. Apologies in advance, I've been at orchestra camp 6.5 hours a day, and then have to work on the music even more when I get home (Benefits of missing the first week, I guess) Oh well. **

**Hasta la Pasta!**

**Kisses**

**Ellie **


	3. Chapter 3

Britan, as per usual was the first in the conference room. He did his best to ignore everyone as they came in, not wanting to socialize with anyone at the moment. The Brit calmly sipped his tea, focused on the book in his hand. He continued reading until the sound of a certain American collapsing into his chair caused him to jump, startled. He turned to face the man next to him and was taken aback at how absolutely wretched the boy looked. His face was pale, aside from a reddish tint around his cheeks and nose, and he was shivering. He looked unfocused, exhausted. Britan immediately felt a pang of concern for the American.

"America?" He questioned. "Are you alright?"

America looked up and seemed dazed for a moment, but immediately hid it. "Yeah Iggs! Just a small headache," he said while forcing out a small laugh.

"You look terrible. Are you sure it's only a headache?"

"Positive!" And with that America turned away from England, clearly saying that the conversation was over.

Germany took the podium, but all the nations were arguing already, as per usual. Germany gripped the podium, as per usual. Italy was off somewhere yelling about pasta, as per usual. But Britan could still not shake the feeling that not all was right in their meeting.

He watched America take the stage, unknowing that his suspicions were about to be proven right.

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He walked to the front of the room, squeezing his tired eyes shut as he staggered his way towards the podium. When he got there, America opened his eyes. He took a deep breath, and felt something catch in his throat. He cleared his throat and attempted to begin, but he was only able to get one word out before he was taken over by a painful fit of coughing. He couldn't do anything but stand there, doubled over, painful hacking overtaking his body.

He felt weak.

He felt un-heroic.

He felt helpless.

His only saving grace was that despite the fact that the coughing was making his eyes water, he was able to keep the tears from running down his face, despite the only thing he wanted to do was curl up and cry, the painful coughing like knives in his throat, like a weight on his chest.

And it just wouldn't stop.

**Hey guys. I know this is extremely short, but I'm lazy. Now picture this:**

**Chibi England, with long hair. Coming at you in a dark hallway, on all fours. He is only wearing France's crotch rose, and is chanting his summoning song. Sweet dreams!**

**Kisses!**

**Ellie**


	4. Chapter 4

England watched, mentally beating himself up. _I knew there was something wrong with the boy since the first day,_ he thought to himself. _Why the bloody hell did I not stop him?_ He quickly put those thoughts to the back of his mind. Those thoughts weren't going to help America now, would they, He jumped up out of his seat and ran over to where America was, still doubled over, coughing into the crook of his arm. The Englishman stood next to him rubbing his back, trying to get the coughing to stop. The whole fit lasted about 15 minutes.

"What the bloody hell was that, America?" he asked, his tone holding no malice of sarcasm, but laced heavily with concern.

The younger of the two was breathing heavily. "drought... in the south... causing... dust in the air..." he panted. He seemed about to continue, but England cut him off.

"You are in no condition to present today. I'm bringing you to my hotel room with me." Britan immediately knew how terrible America was feeling when he didn't even argue, just slowly nodded his head. England turned to Germany "I'm assuming I have the permission to leave with America? There is no bloody way im leaving him alone." His tone left no room for argument, and the German sensed that. He just nodded.

"Zhat is fine, England. Ve shall shall hold off until ze next meeting."

England muttered a polite thank you as he turned back to America just in time to see the boy's eyes widen. America raced out of the room, his hand over his mouth. Everyone knew exactly what had happened, and Britan heard Hungary make a small noise of sympathy as he raced out of the room after the ill nation. He also heard a certain Frog yelling after him.

"Ohonhonhon Angleterre," He heard. "Back to your hotel room, non?"

England gave a small smile when he heard someone with a french accent yell "OW!" and "I was only playing!"

He darted into the bathroom in time to see America flush the toilet and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. He was still panting.

"Good God, America."

Said man didn't reply.

England continued, not even bothering to ask if he was okay. The answer was quite obvious. "Are you well enough to carry on to the hotel, or are you going to be sick again?"

"I'm okay."

"Like hell you are." England reached a hand down to help the younger nation up from his spot on the bathroom floor. The American took it and allowed England to pull him up off the floor. Once he was up, the began to slowly walk out, but two steps in, America jerked back and fell to his knees, vomiting once again.

_This is going to take awhile_, England thought as he crouched down next to the sick boy and started rubbing his back.

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**Sorry all my chapters are so short, guys. I haven't had much time, but I still want to get something up.**

**Thanks for all the nice reviews and helpful hints guys!**

**R&R or Iggy from my last author's note is going to come for you. I was told that it was a scary image, but I didn't he was that bad.**

**Kisses! **

**Ellie **


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